


Always Inside

by oceaxe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco explains why he and Harry are slow to answer their Floo these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bring Back the Porn!
> 
> I wrote this in about 10 minutes, sorry for any typos or nonsensical wordings!

I remember how it started. I was still inside Harry after we had both come, and as usual I was still more than half-hard. Harry, insatiable beast that he is, wiggled his arse on my dick and sighed. 

“You sound unhappy. You’re not allowed to be unhappy after I’ve given you a world-class reaming like that,” I berated him. I was glowing with orgasmic bliss and was frankly irritated that he wasn’t as well. 

“No, that was brilliant, Draco,” he turned his head to give me a sloppy kiss. He’s like a dog, all tongue and teeth. I love it. “I just…” he trailed off and I could see a slight blush stealing across the tops of his cheeks. 

“What is it?” I asked, low and demanding.

“It’s - I’m embarrassed to say,” he tried to laugh it off, but I could tell his mortification was real. 

“Tell me,” I said, thrusting into his wet hole. A trickle of come slid out and dripped around my balls. I shivered, and he ground back on me. 

“I- sometimes, I just - I want you inside me. All the time.”

“I am inside you all the time,” I said, biting on the shell of his ear.

“No, I mean, like - I never want your dick out of me. I want it. _All_ the time.”

I fell silent while contemplating this outrageous desire. My pulse spiked - I wanted it too. I never wanted to leave the sanctuary of his arse. My cock honestly felt at home there; I always regretted having to withdraw, to pull away. 

Harry mistook my silence for disgust or disapproval. He started to ease away from me. I pulled him back onto me with both arms, pinning his arse to my groin. 

“Let’s see what we can do.” 

So I found a spell. We are wizards, after all - a fact that my paramour seems all too willing to forget at times. The spell allows me to stay securely nestled inside him even when completely soft, which I almost never am- not around him. 

We spend about half our time like this, my cock in him, ready to fuck whenever I get even the slightest notion. It saves a lot of effort - we go around pantless at home now and there’s no need to unbutton anything or step awkwardly out of trousers. Making dinner is a lot more enjoyable than it used to be - I can help Harry chop vegetables or sautee meat or slice bread, all the while gently fucking in and out of him. I try to go carefully around knives or open flame, but as soon as the pots are simmering on their own, I flip him over the table and pound into him with all my pent-up need. I always need. It never stops. 

After we eat, with him on my lap, we might retire to the drawing room. I cancel the spell so we can change positions, and when I slide out of him, a gush of come escapes his arse, having been plugged up in there for hours at times; it builds up after two, three, four orgasms. Now that we’ve reached our optimal arrangement, I’m losing count of the number of times I come in a day. It’s brilliant. It’s unprecedented. I will accept nothing less from now on. 

Once he’s seated on my lap again, this time facing me, we might listen to the wireless or read; intermittently kissing, licking, biting - it all leads to the same place, me pumping up into him until we can’t take it anymore, then sliding to the floor, him on his back, taking the full measure of my cock ramming up inside as deep as I can drive it. Fuck I love him. I love fucking him. I love him. 

Consequently, we’re slow to answer the Floo these days. And if you’re pissed that no one is keyed to the wards, Granger, that’s why.


End file.
